Our Love Will Be Legend
by bxssun
Summary: Grimmjow, a depressed, bored as hell, handsome, CEO feels like he has nothing when he has everything a person could possibly want. Ichigo, a risky, sexy, thrill seeker, in search of something fun to do, feels like he's on top of the world when he has nothing really worth noting. This is the story of how their love became legend.
1. Our Love Will Be Legend

**Our Love Will Be Legend**

Right now, I am looking at my whole entire existence...

My world,

My life,

My universe,

My star,

My muse,

My gravity,

My lov- okay, I think you get it. I'm going to spare you the sappy shit and just say it outright. I am looking at the one person I am so head over heels in love with.

In other words, I am gazing at a man named Ichigo Kurosaki.

I can still recall the day that we met like it was yesterday. It wasn't a sunny, clear perfect weather, children laughing in the background, kind of day where we meet in the middle of a grassy field, pull at each other's hands and spin around like a bunch of fags. Quite the contrary now that I think about it, it was midnight, and I was gloomy as shit like you would think I was Oscar from Sesame Street or the guy that hates Christmas all the time.

A year ago, if someone told me that I'd fall in love with this guy...

Shit would probably hit the fan and you'd find their body skinned, beaten, bruised, and abandoned in a shitty smelling alleyway while their intestines are being gobbled up by crows. Ha. I'm funny. He always told me I had a sick sense of humor, I told him he loved it. I miss him... I miss the constant teasing and irrelevant arguments.

And you're probably wondering why since he's right in front of me. Well, he's in front of me, but not in the best condition.

Let's start from the very beginning, of how our love...

became the greatest fucking legend of all time.

*cue the rock music*

\m/

I downed my last shot of tequila and slammed down the money for all of the poison I've drank. I probably had at least ten or twenty shots plus a whiskey, I could barely even feel the burn in my throat as the crystal clear liquid slid down. That's right, ladies and fucking gentlemen, I am a proud ass alcoholic.

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, extraordinaire, jack of all trades, genius, wealthy, extremely handsome, player, etc. Blah fucking blah, that's how people see me. But to my closest friends and myself, I am...

Grimmjow, Grimmy, Grimm-kitty, an asshole, bastard, sly motherfucker, soft at heart, easy to anger, hostile, an idiot, and my personal favorite, a fuck up in more ways than one. The last comment was made by me.

On the outside, I bet people would take offense for me claiming myself as a fuck up, because let's face it I'm probably living the dream. But in my heart, I know it's not true. CEO of my father's company from morning till day, a depressed alcoholic from evening till midnight. Most people would kill to be where I am, especially at only 22 years of age. I'm top dog in the company, my father's proud of me like I hoped he would be once I successfully took over, I have an excessive amount of money, I have fancy cars, I have true friends, I have a nice residence, I have the looks, men and women crawl at my feet, and for fucks sake I even have a gorgeous fiancé waiting for me in my so called residence. I hate calling it my house or my home because fuck it, aren't homes supposed to be lively and warm? Why call mine's a house when mine's is dead as hell. I can't even relax at my own house. I know I shouldn't be complaining, but despite all luxuries that I own...

I feel like a living corpse, like my soul is diminishing minute by minute, fading until it'll be too late to do anything about it. I'm bored as fuck, I'm extremely unhappy, I'm angry, angry at the world because what the fuck am I supposed to do now that I have everything that's supposedly supposed to make me feel like I am actually living and joyful? I even thought about suicide a few times, but no, it's wrong. Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez does not come out of this life as a pussy. Ugh maybe in the next lifetime I'll somehow find happiness, I'll have to suck it up in this one first though.

I always come to this bar after work, Hueco Mundo, it's called. Alcohol always numbs the fact that I'm depressed as fuck. I feel suffocated so I loosen the black silk tie to my suit and even unbutton a few buttons. I ran a hand through my unruly blue hair, frustrated.

I stagger towards the front of the bar ready to leave. I leave the same way as I always feel, hopeless. I push the door open and stretch a bit, taking in the musky smell of the after rain that happened during work. The sidewalk, road, and trees are all still dripping wet, it's actually pretty calming. I took my phone out it was midnight, I was ready to call my driver to pick me up when I am greeted with a godly fuckin sight.

That's when I saw _him._

He was across the street from the bar I came out of. He was poised up against a sleek red, baby butt smooth, Ducati monster. And just like its name, it was a _monster_. I sighed, my father would never let me own one of those, says its for thugs, what a bunch of uptight bull. The intricate design near the engine, and the paintwork near to perfect. Like I shit you not, a millimeter near to perfect. After I checked out that baby, I took my attention to what really caught my eye. A man, no a deity, a god propped up against the Ducati. He was sleek, lean, but definitely not scrawny. He definitely had abdominal and arm muscles even under the layers of clothing he was wearing. The man looking to be about roughly the same age as me, was wearing a smooth black leather jacket exterior and underneath that was a light gray, thin hoodie. Bangles of black, brown, and burgundy leather bracelets adorned his slim, tan wrist. He was wearing faded black skinny jeans that had rips near his knees and thighs, it accentuated his miles for long legs that was practically screaming 'spread me please'. At the end of his pants were tan timberland boots that were loosely tied. You could barely see his face for he was wearing ray bans and his hoodie was up, but you could already tell this man was hot as fire. Like smoking dangerously hot fire. You could also tell this man screamed _bad, dangerous, toxic_. It didn't stop me though.

But what really really caught my eye was his cigarette. Or more like how he was holding it between those long thin fingers. It was sophisticated, stylish, elegant even, and it added more fuel to the scorching fire. I don't remember when I began to stride towards this mysterious man but by the time I noticed he too took attention to my presence as well. I kept walking confidently but slow, cautious steps, I don't give a fuck if walking like this without a stoplight was illegal or whatever, I needed to know this man _now_.

The man looked up at me for split second before taking a drag, smirking a smirk so hot it could rival the sun. He ran a hand through his hair effectively taking his hoodie off with the action and for the love of all that is holy. His hair is _orange._

Like not even orange as in ginger and a bit reddish _, I mean orange orange._

And it looked hotter in contrast to his bike as they highlighted the unusual feature even more.

It was sexy as hell, I faltered in my footsteps a bit before even walking faster to him. He quirked a fine orange eyebrow at me before widening his smirk, the cigarette between those luscious pink lips. He was probably surprised I kept walking, thought I'd turn around once I saw his hair, I don't blame him, he must get a lot of shit for that. I wonder if it's natural, but I can't complain because my hair is fucking blue.

Once I reach him, he stands up a little straighter slowly taking off his sunglasses revealing light, chocolate, hazel eyes with a portion of gold. Wow. And I mean _wow_.

Marry me please. I've never been this physically attracted to someone. Like ever.

Now that I've got a better look I can see he has a cute button but straight nose, light freckles dancing around his nose and upper cheeks, a sharp jawline but also more soft like, and good lord you can see his dimples by the way he smirks. I don't know how long I was standing there gawking like a retard in my drunken daze probably drooling too, until he smirks wider and snaps his fingers in front of my face.

"Yo blue, are you alright?" His deep but gentle tone coming out of those plump lips.

 _Sexy_.

"Huh? Oh yeah. Uh... H-hi, I'm Grimmjow." I introduce after I was broken out of my spell.

"Grimmjow, huh? My name is Ichigo. Can I ask you something?" He inquired. I almost didn't process what he said after he said my name. You already did, I think. But nod the affirmative nonetheless.

"Do you want to go on a ride with me?" Ichigo inquires while taking a last long drag and dropping the cigarette, stubbing it out with his boot's heel. I was stunned by the question trying to think it through.

"Pardon?"

He laughs and I swear it's probably what angels sound like when they sing.

"Go. On. A. Ride. With. Me." He persisted his tone dropping dangerously low and seducing, holding his hand out as he settles his fine ass on the motorcycle.

At that moment, I knew. Just somehow _I knew_.

Ichigo's hand was another path, an _escape,_ portal even, from my everyday bland life.

That if I took his hand, my life would change forever.

I grasped his warm, callused hands without hesitation.

What have I got to lose? My life can only go from shit to up from here. With him.

Ichigo smiled genuinely at me, it made me even more sure of my decision.

As I settled behind him, he passed me a white helmet in opposite to his black one.

He punted the kickstand up and revved the engine, the motor purring beautifully around the silent dim lit street.

"Let's live a lit- no screw that, let's live a lot tonight, yeah?" Ichigo shouted behind me as we took off.

I wrapped my arms around his waist and said, "Yeah! Let's."

I know I've never been more sure in my whole life.

Huh, maybe I won't have to wait another lifetime, I thought, as the rush of the wind and adrenaline coursed through my veins.

And _I knew,_ I've _never_ felt more alive in my whole life.

I didn't care who he was, I didn't care about where we were going, and I didn't care for going back.

It was just me, him, and the world that was slowly starting to color, tone, and shade.

This man, Ichigo, freed me from the chains that bounded me to my worthless, monotonous life.

 _To be continued..._


	2. So, There We Were

So, there we were.

Riding into the night.

Right then and there, people were dying, babies being born, there were civil wars, there was hunger, Christ, there were people having sex all over the world.

Yet, it still astounds me to this day, how it felt like it was only us in this shitty goddamn planet.

No one else. Just me hanging onto his warm, masculine back, and him, focusing on the road in front of us. Honestly, nothing could be better. Okay, Grimmjow, stop right there, you're becoming a pussy, sappy meter has gone all the way up to fuck who knows where. Let's just say it was nice, okay? Like _really really really_ nice.

I noticed we were heading into the more ghetto areas of the city. In which, I've never been in. If my dad knew I was here, he'd probably have a stroke. Seriously, he was always going on and on about how filthy scum always hung around here, yeah, my dad was a serious twat. The walls of buildings were faded and smudged up, like midnight black watercolor. There were haggardly homeless people with shopping carts lingering the side walks. Convenience store and street lights blinking and flickering. Hell, there were even prostitutes in the corner waiting for their next fuck.

I'm not going to say it was an _ideal_ place for a first date but hey, it's new, right?

Ichigo skidded to a stop once we reached an abandoned old tunnel. Wow. Ha. How kinky would it be if we just had sex right there and then?

 _Or..._ He could murder me, dump me in a ditch, and no one would ever know?

Hahaha really funny, Grimmjow, there's no way in hell Ichigo would do that.

I mean, right?

Fuck.

By this point, it was getting hella sketchy.

Ichigo laughs, breaking me out of my thoughts.

"Relax, I'm not some cult member that's out to gut you alive and sacrifice your insides to Satan." Yeah, Ichigo's evil grin right now, would be really sexy in bed if I didn't think he was serious. Yup, I can't say that I was scared shitless because I really wasn't. Yeah, no like even though no one really knows where I am, my phone is fuckin dying, and I have no form of self defense whatsoever, doesn't mean I'm totally freaking out right now. Now, don't misjudge me, I am in no way labeled as a pushover, trust me, I can handle my own, I've been into plenty of fights and I can totally bring it down with Ichigo (By chance he was a murderer)... If I wasn't half drunk right now.

Yeah, I'm fucked.

Ichigo laughs harder, bowing down and clutching his stomach.

"I was kidding, you should've seen your face. Besides, no way could I mess up a gorgeous face likes yours, it'd be a damn shame, dontcha think?" He smirks.

Please calm the fuck down, elephants stampeding in my stomach. Fuck Ichigo for making me feel so girly. In my defense I did not blush. Almost.

"Okay, so what are we doing here?" I ask tentatively.

"We're going to loosen you up, Blue. You need to relax." Ichigo says as he walks towards the tunnel, gravel crunching as he does so.

I immediately get defensive. How the fuck would he know that? He doesn't know shit.

"What makes you think that I need 'loosening' up? I'm perfectly fine the way I am, I'm successful, I have money, I'm fuckin hot, I have a fiancée-

"Yeah, well perfect doesn't fucking cut it, does it now, Grimmjow? I've seen people like you. You're daddy's wet little dream. Always listening to orders, abiding by rules, hell, I bet when you were a kid your daddy gave you literal gold stars! I'm not gonna lecture you on how good you have it compared to others, nor am I gonna tell you how to live your goddamn life, but I will tell you on how fucking miserable it is! I see it in your eyes, you're tired of people's shit and your dad telling you what to do. You said you're perfectly fucking fine the way you are, yeah? How about you look at me straight in the eyes and tell it to my face." Ichigo huffs.

I wanted to punch him. No, I wasn't mad about how he preached to me about my life. I'm fucking angry because all that he said, was true. And he just rubbed it in my face, adding salt to the damn wound. No, fuck salt, he just poured gasoline on it and lit it on fire.

I wanted to look up, tell him to go fuck himself, and walk my ass home. But what would that change? I would wake up another morning kissing my dad's ass.

I look away.

He continued.

"Yeah that's right, you act like your life's fuckin perfect, when in here," He pauses and stabs my chest, I look up, startled to find gleaming, watery, hazel orbs cutting through me like a knife. "You're dying inside." I remember how astounded I was that day. He worded it flawlessly, but it also sounded deeper then it was meant to be, like it was somehow personal to him.

The moment broke when I guess he realized he was crying. He wiped it off his jacket sleeve and gave out a long, shuddering, exhausted sigh.

"Sorry." Ichigo muttered.

"That's alright. You were right. So... How do you plan on loosening me up, Captain Fun?"

He smiled, a genuine one, satisfaction swarmed through me knowing that _I_ put that smile on his face.

"You'll see." Ichigo hinted as he picked up a large black duffel bag.

"This was my hideout during high school, when shit hit the fan for me." He chuckled bitterly and dragged his hands through the graffitied walls. I examine them. There was a large bold 15 that looked like it was traced over a lot, a skull in front of a blue outlined fire, and one that was really interesting was a broken mask. White in color, jagged shark like teeth, golden glowing eyes surrounded by a black sclera, dark red intricate lines surrounding the one eye.

I pass by all the graffiti, intrigued by everything until I saw one that really caught my eye. It was a woman, a beautiful one at that, with kind chocolate brown eyes, lovely pink lips and a pale complexion. What really caught my eye was the hair color, _orange,_ very similar to Ichigo's but a bit darker. Then it hit me. This was his mother. It had to be. And that meant that Ichigo, made all of this as if this tunnel was his canvas. I look towards him to find him also gazing at the woman or so, his mother.

"My mom. She was pretty, huh? Now you know where my good looks comes from." He jokes, but I could see through that. "I don't know why I did it, I just felt like I should make her more memorable. The portrait that was shown at the funeral was terrible, it was taken into her late stages of cancer. She was more beautiful than that, this is how _I_ saw her." Ichigo smiles sadly.

"I bet she was as every bit as fiery as you." I laugh and he joins with me. I don't say sorry because I know he doesn't need it. We both look at it for a few more moments before Ichigo breaks it.

"Come on, Grimm." He smirks as he beckons me towards him.

I quirk an eyebrow. Grimm, huh? That's a new one. I like it.

"Okay, _Ichi."_ I get back at him. His eyebrows furrow for a second before he makes a slow lazy smile. "Not half bad."

We stop at an empty wall of the tunnel and Ichigo opens the bag. Glass plates, bowls, and cups of all sorts sprawled out between variety colored spray paints.

My confusion must've shown on my face because Ichigo chuckled.

"What? Never seen big boy tools?"

"Fuck you."

"Hmm, maybe later, Grimm." He smirks and my eyes must've popped out of my head. Hehe, so the attraction is mutual, huh? I smirked back. I would've elaborated more if a spray paint can wasn't shoved in my face.

"I'm gonna need you to paint the person the makes you feel the most shittiest. Just trust me on this, okay?" Ichigo assured me.

I nodded. It didn't take me much thinking on who to paint if I'm honest. It's obviously my wanker of a dad.

I finished my portrait of him. He was just like any other old man. Except, he had blue with gray hair. He had the normal wrinkles, gray eyes because I inherited mines from my mom, black crisp suit and furrowed brows. Before I can set down all of the cans I used, Ichigo protested.

"No, no, no, _this_ is your dad?"

"Um, yeah?" I ask frustrated.

" _No, this,_ is your dad." He answers while grabbing back the light blue paint.

Ichigo then continues to connect my dad's eyebrows together.

And I'm sure I've never seen anything more hilarious in my life. I laughed my ass off imagining him in a unibrow, serves him right. Ichigo grabbed an armful of more colorful spray paints from the duffel bag.

"Now let's _really_ paint what your dad _really_ looks like, shall we?" Ichigo asks while twisting the cap off a pink spray paint can with his teeth.

I laugh wholeheartedly.

"We shall."

We readied, aimed, and fired our colors, starting to devastate my dad from head to toe.

By the time we were finished, our clothes were both ruined to hell that if we were to wash them a thousand times it would still be there. We were splattered with so many colors that the rainbow couldn't even compare. And I don't even care. I've laughed so much, my voice is going hoarse.

I step back and gaze at our creation. My dad- well, it looked more of an abomination more than anything but it was portrayed perfectly.

His suit was now ruined with a hot pink apron on top of it with frills, his hair has a piece of shit on top off it, snot was coming out of his nose, he has devil horns, he has warts, chappy the bunny slippers that complimented the apron, and the icing on top of the cake, was the giant dick on his forehead.

11/10

Like seriously, Picasso couldn't even compare to this. It was amazing.

I give Ichigo a wide grin, if I stare at it any longer, I'll probably laugh my ass off again.

"Hey, thanks for this, I-

"Woah, hold your horses cowboy, we're not done yet. What do you think the plates are for?" He asks incredulously but his mischievous smile gives him away.

My grin widens so much it feels like my face is going to split in half. We step back a few meters and he hands me a pristine glass plate.

"Do the honors, Grimm." Ichigo smiles, I smile back.

I smashed the plate right on his face, and boy did it feel good.

I once again have a laughing fit, imagining my dad watch me do this.

He'd probably disown me.

Funny thing was, if he did, I don't think I would care.

When we were finally done, we leaned against the wall not caring if it was dirty and sat down. My voice was still hoarse but thanks to the water bottle Ichigo gave me, it was better.

I turned to him and grasped his warm, soft hand into one of my own.

"Thank you. I don't know why you're doing this. But I really needed that."

"Ha, no need to thanks me, it's fun for me too, buuut..." Ichigo trails off.

"Buuut...?" I really didn't know where he was going with this.

"Do you know what I really need right now?" He questions.

"What?" I furrow my brows.

He smirks.

"A searing, hot kiss from a devilishly, dashing blue haired stranger." He answers with the most confident grin.

Witty, cocky, son of a bitch.

I love it.

I decided to tease him a little by leaning in reeeaal close and kissing...

His cheek. And hell, it was worth it to see that adorable little pout of his.

"Fuck you."

"Maybe later, sweet cheeks." I smirk. Ichigo grabs my collar harshly and presses his full, pink lips into mine's. His arms wrapped around my neck while I wrapped mine around his thin waist.

Good lord. If you have not kissed Ichigo then you are really not living. Not like I'll allow you to, of course. Woah, possessive much, Grimmjow? No, but seriously, touch him and I'll nuke you. All I could feel was his silky, sensual lips moving against mine, flawlessly.

It was a very bad situation, though. Kissing Ichigo is great... but I already have a hard on. And adding tongue to the equation did not help at all, especially since Ichigo had a tongue ring. Christ, imagine if that was on my _dick._ Bad Grimmjow, stop, you're not going camping, you don't need a tent right now, I thought. After he nipped my bottom lip and slipped his tongue in, we were in a war for dominance. I wasn't winning, really. In all honestly, I didn't really mind, kissing Ichigo throws all thoughts out the window. He rolled his metallic, silver tongue around my mouth while I explored his wet, steamy cavern.

Then oxygen intake had to be a little bitch and made us pull away. It was like a pubescent teenage boy getting caught for watching hardcore porn.

We kissed a few more times after that, and he somehow ended up in my lap. When Ichigo stood up and told me we had to go I was a bit disappointed since all I wanted to do was kiss him silly, but I was excited to go for our next destination. As long as I was with Ichigo, I didn't really care where we went. Hell, we could go to a junk yard and it would still be alright.

We hopped onto his bike. I looked back at the marks we made as he started the engine. I smirked. What an unforgettable night.

 _"What are you doing?" I ask. We were in the middle of our make out session when Ichigo abruptly stood up and claimed he had an idea._

 _"We should really mark the place as our own, you know? Like our initials."_

 _I hummed in thought, it was a good idea. Really poetic._

 _"Hey, think of the dirtiest sentence you know and put our initials in it." Ichigo continues._

 _Well, I just had a great idea._

 _"Alright, what's your last name, Ichigo?"_

 _"Kurosaki. Yours?"_

 _"Y'know, the fact that you're Japanese makes you hotter. And it's Jaegerjaquez."_

 _He laughs and shakes his head._

 _"Whatever, just go for it already."_

 _I chuckle as I grab the orange, blue, and black, spray paint cans._

 _I make sure to make G.J. orange, and I.K. blue, so we have opposing colors. The rest was in black._

 _As I finished, I turned to the side so Ichigo could see it as well._

 _He laughed that beautiful laugh of his and I couldn't help but join in. It was pretty good._

 _"You are a fucking riot of a human being, you know that?" He chuckles and says sarcastically._

 _"I know I am, babe." I pull him into a long satisfying kiss filled with moans and grunts._

 _Ichigo grabs my hand and makes way to his motorcycle and I follow him with a smug smirk firmly placed on my face._

 _xx_

 _'G.I. Wants to fuck I.K. Senseless'_

 _*cue graffiti of a chibi Panther hugging a strawberry._

 _To be continued..._

hey guys, I hope you enjoyed the chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. grimmichi is my favorite pairing and it probably always will be. I wrote this because even though I have read a _lot_ of their fan fictions and there are some really good ones, I can't help but notice how they portray Grimmjow and Ichigo. They always seem to make Grimmjow the more 'bad boy' type and Ichigo more of the damsel in distress. And I thought, hey why not reverse their roles for once? In this fic, Grimmjow is the one that needs saving but it's not like Ichigo doesn't have his own demons to fight. Thank you for reading, favoriting, following, and commenting. It is greatly appreciated.

~ ZeroByDivide


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